Take my hand
by Yuneyn
Summary: The world might be saved, but the two of them may not have much time left. In case they never get another chance, maybe they should find a way to finally share those feelings they've been hiding for far too long now.


_A/N: __This idea came to me as a semi-conscious dream I had last weekend, and I ended up writing it all in one day, which is something that hadn't happened to me in a very long time, so I'm pretty excited about this!_

_I'm still pretty new to the fandom, I only watched the show for the first time less than two weeks ago and didn't know the book beforehand. So, I really hope Crowley and Aziraphale won't come off as too OOC - I tried my best! These two make such a sweet couple, probably the softest ship I've ever had, and I'm so happy I managed to write something for them. I hope you guys will enjoy it!_

_Voxiferous, thank you so much for encouraging me to write this story, and for being the first one to read it! 3_

* * *

Crowley shifted slightly on his couch as he watched Aziraphale from the corner of his eyes. The angel was busy making sure there wasn't any trace of holy water left in his apartment. Crowley hadn't thought it was absolutely necessary since all of it had seemed to have disappeared along with Ligur, but Aziraphale had insisted, mumbling something about how it was the least he could do after everything… And truly, Crowley had been too tired to argue.

He shifted again. His couch felt strangely a lot more comfortable than he remembered, but it wasn't what was bothering him. Everything felt slightly off. On one hand, they _had_ just averted the apocalypse, so the standard reaction would be to just relax - enjoy the fact that this fight was over, and that they had saved the world. On the other hand, Crowley knew perfectly well that it was far from over for them. They might have gained a short moment's respite while the forces of Heaven and Hell worked to cancel their war... But after that, they would without a doubt be coming for the both of them.

Sighing deeply, Crowley let his head fall back on the back of the couch. He just wished they could finally catch a break. So much had happened in such a short time and he was still having trouble processing it all. He didn't want to worry over what kind of torture or destruction Beelzebub had planned for him; he didn't want to think about that last prophecy; and he certainly didn't want to think about the fact that Gabriel would very much _not_ be simply sending Aziraphale a rude note this time.

He raised his head just enough to be able to see the angel, who was now looking around the room with a satisfied expression on his face. Aziraphale, whom only a few hours earlier, Crowley had thought he'd lost for good. Whom he might still lose, if they ended up misinterpreting Agnes Nutter's words - never mind that he would likely be dead as well. Strangely enough, the thought of his impending destruction bothered him a lot less than that of Aziraphale's.

_Damnit_, he couldn't deal with all this. He could still smell the books burning, feel the heat of the fire on his skin, and that sharp feeling, like being punched in the gut, when he thought Heaven had come for Aziraphale.

There was that sensation behind his eyes again, the same one he had felt earlier when he had been trying to drink himself under the table and stop thinking - stop _feeling_. He threw his head backwards again, glaring angrily at the ceiling and being thankful for his sunglasses. This was utterly ridiculous - demons didn't cry; he certainly never had once since he had arrived on Earth and yet here he was, almost tearing up for the second time in mere hours.

He somehow managed to stop the prickling, yet didn't dare move when Aziraphale came to sit beside him. They shared a moment of silence, but Crowley could feel the angel's eyes on him the whole time, and he knew what was coming.

"Are you alright?" Aziraphale eventually asked.

"...'m fine," Crowley retorted, a bit more snappish than he had intended to be.

"If you say so," the angel replied in that thoroughly unconvinced tone of his. Crowley usually found it highly irritating, but this time it mostly made him irritated with himself.

Letting out a low, slightly exasperated groan, he straightened up just enough to be able to really look at Aziraphale from behind his glasses. "It's just— A lot has happened," he said, hating that even though his voice only barely wavered, he simply knew that the angel would still pick up on it. "And it's not over. Far from it. I'm just…" He sighed. "Tired." _Scared_.

Aziraphale looked at him silently for a moment, before averting his gaze. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"Huh?"

"I should have been more careful. I got discorporated in such a foolish way. I never meant for you to think that… well, that I had been destroyed."

Crowley was still staring at him. There were so many things he wanted to say, but what eventually came out of his mouth was a slightly strangled, "Yeah, well. Wasn't the best moment of my existence."

Aziraphale looked up at him again, and Crowley had half a mind to tell him to stop looking so guilty and sad but then the angel settled a gentle hand on his arm and the demon's words died in his throat. The simple touch made his heart beat faster somehow, which was ridiculous considering it didn't _need_ to beat in the first place. It appeared that his human body sometimes developed a will of its own, and it was seriously starting to get on his nerves.

"I understand," Aziraphale said quietly. "If I… If the situation had been reversed, I would… Well, I…" He trailed off, taking a small, shuddering breath that didn't escape the demon. "Anyway," Aziraphale said again, clearing his throat and beginning to remove his hand from Crowley's arm.

_No_.

It was an instinctive response, but Crowley wasn't ready for how cold his insides would suddenly feel when Aziraphale's touch left him. He quickly grabbed the angel's hand and held it tightly. "Wait. I… Um," he stammered awkwardly. He could see the surprise in Aziraphale's eyes, the silent question, the underlying uncertainty. _Say something._ "Please," he managed to add, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

Aziraphale blinked a few times then looked away, but Crowley did see the slight nod he did before whispering "Alright."

They sat like this in silence for a while. Aziraphale's hand was warm in Crowley's, but somehow the atmosphere felt awkward - _tense_. As he glanced towards his friend, Crowley could see the way the angel's shoulders were a bit too stiff. He knew Aziraphale must be overthinking what was happening - or, rather, trying really hard _not_ to think about it at all, much like he had been doing with their friendship and arrangement over the years. Crowley was used to it. He simply needed to break the ice.

"Did you do something to my couch?" Crowley asked in the most laid-back way he could manage.

He felt Aziraphale jump slightly next to him at the sudden question, but then the angel scoffed. "Well, at least _now_ you can call it a couch. What you had before felt like sitting on a pile of rocks."

Crowley snorted. "If you say so, angel."

They fell into silence again, but it felt a lot more like the usual silences they shared. Comfortable. Familiar. Glancing at Aziraphale once more, Crowley felt something tug inside his chest. There was still so much he wanted to say, and depending on what would unfold after that night, he may never have the chance… But most of the words felt trapped deep inside of him, and he wasn't sure that broaching the subject wouldn't make Aziraphale tense up again. Still, maybe there was one thing he could...

"Hey angel?" He said, his grip on Aziraphale's hand tightening slightly. The angel hummed softly, so Crowley went on. "I'm sorry too. I should have been there. Stopped it from happening."

"What are you going on about, Crowley? You couldn't possibly have known—"

"But I should have. Somehow I always could, you know, before."

He heard Aziraphale take a deep breath. "Well, you did save me quite a few amount of times," he conceded quietly. "But this time, I really wasn't technically in any danger. Mr Shadwell was quite frankly harmless, and I only ended up stumbling into the portal because I was trying to keep him away from it. Besides, you were having troubles of your own. So there really isn't any reason for you to worry about this."

Crowley wasn't really convinced, even though he knew that, realistically, what Aziraphale had said made sense. He still wished he hadn't been too late. Maybe if he had kept some holy water for Hastur he might have arrived earlier, or if he had been more stubborn and stayed with the angel even after their argument then things would have been different.

"Really, Crowley, it all worked out well in the end," Aziraphale added softly. "Well, for the world, at least. For us, I suppose we will have to take Agnes Nutter's advice."

"Right," Crowley breathed out, then finally looked at Aziraphale. "We'll do that. And once it is finally _all_ over, you can always… come back here, you know. If Adam forgets to bring back your bookshop. Or, well. If you'd like."

Aziraphale looked up at him for a second before staring straight ahead, visibly contemplating what Crowley had just said. Then he inhaled sharply, pursing his lips for a moment before exhaling slowly. "I'd like that," the angel said softly.

Crowley was only just starting to feel relief wash over him, when suddenly he felt Aziraphale lace their fingers together and shift closer, until their shoulders were touching and the angel was leaning against him ever so slightly. Any relief he'd felt was nothing compared to the warm feeling that suddenly enveloped him. It was such a simple gesture, yet it meant so _much_. It meant Aziraphale wouldn't be running away from their friendship anymore. It meant that they truly were on _their_ side now. It meant that Crowley could stop being afraid that Aziraphale would suddenly want to cut ties and stop their arrangement - and everything else they had.

He felt himself relax as well, shifting closer the slightest bit so that Aziraphale would know the gesture and contact was not unwelcome. He was _definitely_ not ready, however, for the soft and fleeting feeling of Aziraphale's lips against his cheek.

Crowley's brain screeched to a halt and all he could do was stare at the angel, who was looking back at him nervously.

"I apologize if I overstepped," Aziraphale quickly stammered. "It's just— That is— There was a lot I wanted to say… Well, obviously that I'm sorry about what I said before, about how we aren't friends and me not liking you - but also, um. The other stuff, I just… Well, this seemed to sum things up quite nicely."

Crowley kept staring, his mind sending him about a million suggestions for what he could say in return so he could let Aziraphale know that there _truly_ was no need for him to apologize. But somehow, he remained frozen to the spot, unable to form any words or move at all.

Aziraphale studied his face for a moment before frowning slightly. "Seriously Crowley, if you're not going to say anything at least let me see you," he muttered quietly before reaching out with his free hand to delicately remove the demon's glasses.

Crowley's grip on Aziraphale's hand tightened as he suddenly felt extremely exposed. However it was quickly apparent that whatever the angel had seen in his eyes was _good_, if the bright smile that started illuminating Aziraphale's face was any indication.

That was when Crowley felt something inside of him snap, and his body started moving on instinct. His free hand went to cup Aziraphale's jaw, and in less than a heartbeat he had closed his eyes and was gently pressing their lips together.

Angels didn't kiss. Demons certainly didn't either. Sure, they might use their wiles to tempt humans into pleasures of the flesh, but such temptation was usually always directed towards other humans. Still, while such pleasures held no interest whatsoever for Crowley, he couldn't deny that such a simple act as kissing was a very nice way of expressing the things he couldn't yet put into words.

It was only a simple touch of the lips at first, a question more than anything - after all, even though Aziraphale had unexpectedly taken the initiative earlier, he had remained on the more innocent side of things. But then the angel leaned in slightly, his free hand gently settling on Crowley's shoulder, and the demon had his answer.

_Yes_.

Six thousand years had led them to this very moment. Six thousand years of bumping into each other sporadically at first, then more and more often, more and more willingly. Six thousand years of being the only person who understood what it felt like to watch the ages of the world go by, to see humans being born and dying over and over again. In fact, Crowley could no longer pinpoint the moment when he had started to realize that he cared for Aziraphale far more than one should care for a friend, a colleague - not to mention that they were technically supposed to be enemies.

Knowing exactly when these feelings had begun to emerge hardly mattered at this point, anyway. Maybe they had even been there from their very first meeting, slowly and steadily growing as their arrangement evolved into friendship. What _really_ mattered now was that they were both _here_. It was the way Crowley could feel Aziraphale against him, the warmth of the angel's skin under the palm of his hand, the strong grip they had on each other's hand. Aziraphale was truly here - not destroyed, not discorporated, not avoiding him. Simply _here_, _now_, on _their own_ side; and Crowley leaned slightly further into the kiss, allowing it to last for just a little longer as he reveled in the moment.

There was a beat of silence when they eventually pulled apart, both looking into each other's eyes, searching. And Crowley thought that maybe he should try to say those words that were trapped inside him, or perhaps Aziraphale would say them first and make it easier on him… However, part of him also knew that even though this moment had been six thousand years in the making, those words still felt too new, too scary considering who they both were and their circumstances.

But maybe it was alright. Maybe they didn't really need to say anything. After all, it _had_ been six thousand years. It was a long time to get to know someone, enough to learn everything about them. For the two of them, when it came to important things, words were unnecessary.

Comforted by this knowledge, Crowley relaxed and gave his angel a warm smile, every fiber of his being whispering the words of love, trust and promise that he couldn't say out loud. The smile that Aziraphale gave him before embracing him held every assurance that those feelings were definitely mutual.

* * *

_A/N: __...And then they cuddled all night long, did the body swap, and cuddled some more while in each other's body out of curiosity. Then later, after their dinner at the Ritz, they both came back to Crowley's place together. And probably cuddled again. They have 6000 years of no-cuddling to make up for, after all._

_I hope you liked this little story! Don't hesitate to come talk to me on Tumblr (yuneyn) or on Twitter (Yuneyn_), I'm not super active but I always love chatting about fandoms I love over DMs!_


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